My secret is that I need God—that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.

Their talk was endless, compulsive, and indulgent, sometimes sounding like the remains of the English language after having been hashed over by nuclear war survivors for a few hundred years.

What surprises me about humanity is that in the end such a narrow range of plights defines our moral lives.

Besides, animals don’t even have time. Only humans have time. It’s what makes us different.

I find it hard to believe that human beings are the crowning achievement of life on earth. Something better than us has to come along.

You can't fake creativity, competence, or sexual arousal.

People are pretty forgiving when it comes to other people's families. The only family that ever horrifies you is your own.